


Reminisce of Bittersweet Days

by Pinaloom



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Coffee, Crack, Fluff and Angst, One Shot, Other, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinaloom/pseuds/Pinaloom
Summary: The darkness of society was always an open book secret: something that everyone knew and everyone chose to ignore. Its ebony swirls, consuming all that walk amongst its bitter chance, swallowing the unlucky in a forever crushing sequence of events.But eventually the timer ends with its little ring, marking the coffee finished and done.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Reminisce of Bittersweet Days

The darkness of society was always an open book secret: something that everyone knew and everyone chose to ignore. Its ebony swirls, consuming all that walk amongst its bitter chance, swallowing the unlucky in a forever crushing sequence of events.

The innocence of childhood was always nothing more than a plastic foam shield: something that feebly protects oneself from a world unprepared. With it, Its cheap and artificial material poisoned the earth even more; Once again a cup- a child- is tossed to the side, littering the world with its non degradable waste, forever marking this slowly filthy land in its trashed seas.

Those cups once filled with the fresh brew of pure coffee beans are now nothing more than a shell of who a person once was. 

Milk Coffee kicks a pebble then, tsking as they shake their head. Now was not the time to dwell on manners of life and innocence. For even though a persons were to blatantly ignore the growing darkness the world had to offer, in a sickly ironic way, this childish naivete is what holds the mere reminisce of purity left in this sick world. 

Letting out a small huff of air in the chilly breeze, Milk felt the warmth of the dying late afternoon slowly turn cool as the sun steadily began its deparcher down, reflecting its amber hues on the shields of city windows in a blinking fury. 

Milk too blinks then.

Turning a head up towards the heavens, they stared into the eyes of infinity that was the blue sky. In a breathless silence, Milk can only watch as the colors covered itself once more in a shroud of foggy white clouds. The sky is a beautiful painting, always has been. 

Nothing like the world below that it covers.

The temperature grows colder then, darkness taking its peak as dusk slowly starts to settle down. No more than a few seconds filters by before the scenery changes, conforming the sky into a blank sheet of monotone black. 

And even though it was then the city streets lit up, turning into a starry silver lining, Milk couldn't look away from the sky.

For now, staring at the endless canvas of black, Milk found it far more gorgeous.

Milk can’t help the flood of memories pooling into their head then, engulfing their mind just like the dark tendrils of the sky. The laughter and joys of the past, a forever ringing melody, flickering just as loudly as the honks of cars. Milk sees two children then, hand in hand, running around with no care of the bitter world around them.

The world was different then; no crowded streets- besides the single path that was only theirs, no blaring noise - besides the sounds of their breathless giggles, no flickering lights- besides the ones in their innocent eyes.

Dark eyes turn towards them then, ebony and rich as a thousand nights and galaxies.

“What do you think of the world?” the darkness seems to ask.

Milk doesn’t respond for a while, taking much more interest in seeing how the world reflected in those eyes of the past.

“Did you hear me?” the darkness asks.

Milk blinks before quickly sitting up. “Yeah, sorry… um, what was the question again?”

The other offers an unimpressed stare before repeating said question. “What do you think of the world?”

It’s a loaded question. Something that many might spend their entire lifetimes and more to wonder. 

And it was a question that shouldn’t be answered in one word, but in a sad way, it can be.

“Bitter.” Milk answers simply.

The darkness stares back at them then before huffing. “That’s rather pessimistic.”

“Then it’s pessimistic.”

“Well, then do you think we’re both bitter too?”

Milk snorts. “Yep. Especially since you broke my prized mixing spoon. Trust me, I’m plenty bitter about that.”

The darkness only coughs sheepishly, “I said I was sorry.”

“I don’t want apologies, I want my money back.”

“You greedy bastard.”

“It’s called financial planning.”

“Oh? And might I ask financial planning for what?”

Milk props themselves up on their elbows, smiling at the darkness. “The future.”

The darkness hums before raising a curious eyebrow down. “So, what do you think the future looks like?” the darkness asks.

And unlike the previous question, this one was far easier to answer. But, it could still be said in a single word.

“You.” Milk answers simply. 

The darkness fumbles then, unable to respond and Milk only continues to add to the answer. For the response deserved more than a lone syllable of the lips. 

“I see my future with you. Perhaps call me cheesy, but I am only being honest with myself and you. We’ve known each other since we were mere seeds of mother nature, and bloomed together by the same seasons of father time. Though we were not cultured the same way, you were there every day of my being. On my lone sprout, I saw you, another burgeoning seed far away from the one I was raised. Your eyes, the dark abyss, is the first thing I have known…” Milk trails off before staring deep at those said ivory pupils. They held a certain emotion then, and at the time, Milk did not understand it. “You are my beginning and my end. It is only right that I see my future with you.”

The darkness doesn’t respond for a while, so Milk doesn’t respond either, taking contentment seeing the swirling depths of those irises. After a while, the darkness looks away, chuckling softly amongst them.

“Has anyone told you that you are sweet?”

“Hm?”

“Before you said that we are both bitter…” The darkness trails off, connecting their gaze with Milk once more, eyes crinkled in what Milk could also describe in a single word: beautiful. 

“You say we are both bitter, but I think you’re the sweetest brew I’ve ever met.” The darkness finally says, smiling softly.

Looking at those eyes now, Milk could see themselves reflected there, creating a beautiful milky way.

Milk blinks, feeling a sudden rush of warmth rise. It was an uncommon feeling, slightly scary at the time, and nearly made Milk slap the other in flustered embarrassment. However, with the blush, Milk only offers their own gentle turn of the lips.

Looking back at those innocent memories now, rather than the warmth offered, perhaps they should have known that they were both more suited for cold brew.

There’s a slight ring then as Milk walks into a floral shop, its jingle bringing them out of their little past stupor. 

A cheery hello follows and Milk brings their eyes up, spotting Green Tea waving at them. Milk offers a small wave too, greeting Tea with as much enthusiasm as they could muster in this time and day.

“Order number 37?” Tea asks, smiling softly at Milk.

Milk just plasters on a smile before nodding. “Yep!” they chirp out, trying to make the sound cheerful and bright as they hand out their receipt to the other.

Tea just nods their head before grabbing a small banquet of flowers by the side. “We were just about to close. Glad you could make it in time.” Tea says, handing the florals into the other’s hand.

Indeed, it was dark out now, flooding the room with its black if not for the singular lamps bathing the room with its simple artificial light. Milk just nods, grabbing the bouquet before turning its petals away from themself, unable to control the complex swirl of emotions when catching a glimpse of it’s unshed petals.

So pale like the morning clouds.

So beautiful like a winter’s cream- or perhaps summer’s fresh vanilla bean?

And so ghostly like the most gorgeous of spirits.

“They say the simplest gifts are the loudest.” Tea says softly, bringing Milk out of the trance of the heart and mind.

Milk stares at the bouquet in their hands, and indeed, out of all the lovely colors that paint the room, it shines like a speckled beacon amongst them all; a bright light in the chaos the world brought- and the darkness that came along with it.

With a hammer in the heart and a shaky smile, Milk says a small thank you before goodbye. The door jingles behind as Milk walks back outside to the November brisk. Milk felt a small shiver run through them then, wishing they could have stayed in the warmth of the shop. They clutch the florals close before dragging their feet along the paved sidewalks, steps in time with the ticks of father time.

But eventually the timer ends with its little ring, marking the coffee finished and done.

That’s how Milk felt then, as they finally made it to their destination. 

A cool stone tablet marks the floor, so much purer than the empty cans and plastic lids that littered besides it. Slowly, Milk lets out a shaky sigh before cleaning up the area, turning the once dirtied ground back to the evergreen field of grass that it always was.

Once satisfied, Milk places the florals gently on the ground, resting each individual flower with care and delicacy. Soon, its creamy color of white lilies painted the floor like a bed of whipped cream, decorating the sullen stone in its ghostly color of foam clouds.

With a final flower, Milk lets out a pleased smile at their work. Yet, slowly, that quirk of the lips turns downward. 

Their world is silent then till one speaks.

“Hey, it’s me.” Milk whispers, hating the crack in their voice. 

They kneel down, trying to not crush any of the lovely florals below. With shallow breaths, Milk stares deep at the heart of the grave before smiling, feeling tears trickle down their cheeks.

“It’s been a while.” 

And even though Milk was as pale as a ghost, sweet like the honey scent of the lilies before them, it was nothing like the sweetness of the voice that could not answer back.

Sweeter than the dark bitterness the world- their world- had to offer.

_“So, why do you think the world is bitter again?” the darkness asks._

_Milk turns towards them, dragging their eyes away from the dark pools of the other’s eyes, taking in Black Coffee as a whole._

_“Well, with you, it’s sweet.”_

_There was no response for a while before Black spoke again._

_“Then, what about a world without me?”_

_“Simple. Then, it’s bitter.”_

_Black just offers an unimpressed stare before looking up at the sky. Milk also looked up then, following the other’s gaze; The sky was a cosmic swirl above them._

_“Then, what about a world with and without me?”_

_“That makes no sense.”_

_“You make no sense.” Black Coffee retorts._

_Milk just sighs before smiling a little to themselves, feeling the other grin then too. Milk turns back towards Black and slowly their eyes reconnect._

_“Then, it’s bittersweet.”_

✩

**Author's Note:**

> coffee crack angst? coffee crack angst.  
> \- Mushroom


End file.
